Roses and Thorns
by Rose DiVerona
Summary: Elphaba reflects on her family, and how life used to be. Before only the thorn was left.


A/N: I wanted to write something to celebrate Wicked's fourth anniversary today, so I put pen to paper - more accurately fingers to keyboard - and this is what came out. Decidedly musicalverse. It's sort of like Elphaba's reflections on her family. Seriously, the only name that appears in here other than her family's is Boq's, because he was important to Nessa's story. Elphaba's birthday was just something I came up with - you know, she was "born" on Broadway on October 30th, but Halloween would be a cool date, too, so...well I'm rambling, so see for yourself! And Happy Wicked Day!

Disclaimer: I wanted something to celebrate this day by, and all that is (legally) left to me is fanfic! And now those wretched little plot Monkeys have walked off with it!

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My life began just between October 30th and October 31st almost exactly twenty-five years ago. My father told me I was birthed at approximately midnight. Ironically called the 'Witching Hour'. It was an ironic beginning to an ironic life.

I was born green. A bright, emerald hue. Neither of my parents could figure out why I had such strange verdigris; there certainly wasn't a history of it in the family. Whatever the cause, from the start I wasn't given all the love a "normal" baby would have been awarded. Everyone who encountered me shuddered involuntarily and gave me a wide berth, as if I was poisonous. True, my first set of teeth were abnormally sharp, and I am told I somewhat resembled a little alligator, but _still_.

When my mother became pregnant again when I was two, my father decided extra precautions would have to be taken to ensure that the second Thropp child did not come out the same as the first. He made my mother chew milk flowers all the time, even when she was in bed in the final month. It worked a little too well. Nessarose was born with perfectly white skin…but her legs were deformed, twisted around each other and unable to move. And my mother slipped into a coma during the delivery and never woke up.

At barely three years old, I had already lost my mother. And even though I was so young, I had the feeling it was my fault. When I got older and had the whole story repeated to me, I became even more certain of my guilt. Still, life went on, with or without Melena.

I remember life at Colwen Grounds like it was yesterday instead of years ago. Father, Nessa, and I lived in the spacious governor's mansion, along with a household of obedient Munchkin servants. My sister and I received education through the variety of tutors my father pushed upon us. Nessarose had no love for learning, but I was an eager student who drank in knowledge with the attitude of a starving beast. The tutors pretended not to admire my quick learning habits (in an effort to not pick favorites), but it was impossible for them to completely quell their surprise and pleasure. My sister, however, was not pleased with my excelling at every subject. It made her jealous to such a point that my father begged me to lighten up a little in lessons, "for Nessie's sake".

It didn't seem fair that I should have to back down to appease Nessarose but she was not required to step down when it came to bettering me at politics. Nessa thrived on politics. It was something she was good at, something she didn't need a working pair of legs to accomplish. She would come up with some argument, and it was my job to give a solid counterattack. The only reason I engaged was to give my sister the vicarious thrill she received from knowing she was better than I was at _something_. Sometimes we would go on for quite some time, especially if we came upon a subject I truly cared about, as I could get overly passionate at the slightest urging. My father loved watching us debate, but he always favored Nessarose over me.

In fact, it was quite clear that my father cherished his second daughter much more than his first. Nessarose was the type of girl that aroused people's sympathies. She was very pretty and delicate, like a flower, like a _rose_. And she dressed nicely and had a quiet and pleasant demeanor. Her legs were her only handicap, and they never really seemed to cripple her. Nessarose commanded the household more than I did when our father was away. She could be stubborn when she wanted to, and she spent a lot of her childhood bossing me around, with no thought at all to the fact that I was three years her elder. People outside the mansion only saw Nessa's sweet side; those on the inside knew she would do almost anything to achieve what she wanted. She treated me badly sometimes and was a selfish brat; I was utterly devoted to her.

Father used to call me "Cricket", but that was only before Nessarose was born. When I was three and gained a little sister and lost a mother, that pet name was lost forever. Instead, I was "Fabala" or sometimes "Fae". When I got older, I was usually just plain Elphaba. My father said he thought I was like a little froggie when I was a baby, but now that I was older, I was more like a prickly cactus. I didn't appreciate either of these comparisons, especially when Nessarose asked what she was and Father replied "The most beautiful and delicate little flower I've ever seen." Father used to say that Nessarose and I were like a rose together; she was the blossom, and I was a thorn.

You can see he liked similes.

Even though my childhood was slanted in favor of my younger sister, I had a fairly happy youth. Life at Colwen Grounds was comfortable; we never wanted for anything, and indeed had too much of many things. It was a large estate, and both Nessarose and I loved to spend our afternoons in the garden, which had bright, colorful flowers and a bubbling fountain. Sometimes I would read books aloud to my sister, and sometimes we would both keep quietly to ourselves. I was responsible for taking care of Nessarose's every need, which had the potential to be very unpleasant and indeed sometimes was, but she loved me in a way my father never did, and she usually treated me decently, even buying me nice presents on holidays when my father "forgot".

Still, I couldn't wait to go to college. I knew that when I was eighteen I would go off to Shiz University for three years, and finally be free of my father's scolding and my sister's desires.

Or so I thought. But when the time finally came for me to go off on my own for the first time in my life, I learned that my sister was to come with me. She was barely sixteen, and so was a little young to be attending college, but my father decided that it would be easier for him if he didn't have to worry about making sure Nessa was cared for every day without me, so he was sending her to school with me. I hated the new development, but I had no choice.

As a further injustice, Father even bought his younger daughter a "going away" present – a pair of gorgeous, sparkly silver shoes. He didn't get me _anything_. I was jealous beyond all reason, but I was used to hiding my hurt feelings by that age, so I took a deep breath and moved on. I was ridiculously good at it.

A few years passed. A lot in my life changed. Nessa fell in love with a Munchkin student at Shiz, Boq, but he didn't love her in return. Everybody but Nessa could see that, but Boq was too kind to break her heart, so she lived on in ignorance until just two years ago.

I left Shiz a year early, leaving behind the security and innocence of my childhood. When I finally returned to Colwen Grounds to see my father and sister for the first time in a few years, I learned that my father had died and Nessarose was the governor of Munchkinland. She wasn't doing a very good job of it, though. She had the mind needed for the job, but it turned out that she had finally sensed Boq didn't love her and she was doing everything she possibly could to ensure that he stayed by her side. This made her treat the Munchkins like her slaves, and they called her 'The Wicked Witch of the East'.

My arrival changed everything. I gave Nessa the power to walk with my newly developed sorcery capabilities, but this made Boq more determined than ever to leave, and Nessa cast a desperate spell on him that made his heart shrivel up. I only just managed to save his life before I left in a hurry, abandoning my heartbroken sister for the second time.

I would come to deeply regret that abrupt departure. Shortly after it, Nessarose died. It was quite sudden. A flying house came from nowhere and squished her beneath it. And her beautiful silver shoes, so precious to both her and me, were gone forever. I never succeeded in retrieving them, no matter how hard I tried. I had nothing to remember either my sister or my father by. The only thing left of my mother was a green bottle with green elixir inside that I'd been given by my father, who didn't even seem to know what it was.

It's all my fault, no matter how much others tell me it isn't. My mother died because I was green; my father because of my rebellious nature; my sister because I couldn't get there to save her in time. All that's left is me; ironically, I was the one no one wanted.

The roses are gone. Only the thorn remains.

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A/N: So...? Review!


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